


You're Welcome

by pretty_rekless



Category: Free!
Genre: Angst, Coffeeshop AU, Fluff, Holidays, M/M, One-Shot, Rare Pair, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-05 23:54:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17334761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pretty_rekless/pseuds/pretty_rekless
Summary: "Winter meant holidays and for some reason holidays meant couples and love. It meant giggling and giddiness with arms interlocked as they entered a coffee shop with snow dusting their peacoats. For a while, Ikuya used to pretend the thought made him gag, but honestly, he just wanted to be in that position."A Coffeeshop AU because I live for cliches.





	You're Welcome

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays, Natalia! 
> 
> (This was written for NY's exchange <3)

Ikuya wondered if he pouted too much for a barista. He wondered if the jealousy in his amber depths was noticeable as each customer approached his brother with fluttering lashes and dopey smiles. Sometimes… _a lot of the time_ , he let his mind wander through about a million different scenarios where he was in Natsuya’s position, bathing in the compliments that showered him, and flirting back with a confident, bright smile.

But Ikuya wasn’t like that- he didn’t have what it took to flip his hair from his face and grin effortlessly. He lacked the broadened shoulders, the sun-kissed skin, and the charm that could enchant any passerby. Instead he managed his way through life with skin like porcelain, a usual pouty frown, and long teal locks that shaded him from his ani’s glow.

Of course, he couldn’t put himself completely down. Apparently, there was something about his big, amber eyes and high cheekbones that drew a few people in. He’d even heard once in his life that his lips looked… and tasted like candy. Something so silly to say, but still made him stupidly happy inside. Relationships never lasted though- he could never get someone to stick around long, whereas Natsuya had had the same partner since he was sixteen and still had to bat other people away.

Ikuya knew if his mother could hear his thoughts right now, she’d scold him for consistently comparing himself to his ani, but he just couldn’t help himself. He desired the experience Natsuya had, the allure, the easy going-ness of it all, but with every brave step he tried to conquer, he ended up falling flat on his face.

So, he’d admired his Ani’s admirers from afar, imagining if he was in Natsuya’s shoes, receiving attention from both women and men. Truthfully, he knew he wouldn’t be able to handle all the attention, but the daydream was still nice, especially when it led to something a little more than just a make-out on the couch.

On top of it all, he was the most inexperienced person he knew and that was including the silver-haired skittish boy he worked with at Fire Roasted. Not that he had anything against Nitori, the boy was cute in his weird quirk-ish way, but it just irked Ikuya to no end knowing that even someone who appeared so innocent had gone further than a shaky hand job.

“You’re frowning more than usual today, Iku-kun,” a soft airy voice cut through his endless cycle of self-pity.

“Insightful as always, Nao- _senpai._ ” He quipped back, not even bothering to connect with the olive eyes that waited to evaluate his every move. His foam art seemed increasingly more interesting as he slowly churned his spoon and made the leaf vanish.

“Ikuya.” Nao spoke absolute, letting Ikuya know the conversation to follow couldn’t be ignored.

“Not today,” he finally sighed defeatedly, looking up at his brother’s partner with pleading eyes.

The other customers of the coffeeshop busied around them as Ikuya and Nao sat in his favorite corner spot. Like most of the other baristas, he spent his break sipping one of his favorite drinks until he had to get back on the floor. Before he started working at Fire Roasted, he drank one cup of coffee a day, but now? He didn’t even want to think about his caffeine addiction.

“It’s always worse around the holidays.”

Ikuya looked back down; Nao was right… Nao was _always_ right. His calm collected voice always bore truth, whether or not Ikuya asked for guidance. He knew his jealousy only increased as winter crept up for obvious reasons. Winter meant holidays and for some reason holidays meant couples and love. It meant giggling and giddiness with arms interlocked as they entered a coffee shop with snow dusting their peacoats. For a while, Ikuya used to pretend the thought made him gag, but honestly, he just wanted to be in that position. He wanted to know what it felt like to have someone pull him by the arm into a dimly lit shop to escape the chill from outside, stumbling inside with shopping bags hanging from each arm.

“I could always set-”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Ikuya threatened without even a glance up of acknowledgement.  

Over the past two years (more heavily in the last six months), Nao had been on a mission to get him to agree to a set-up. Naturally, Ikuya refused to stoop to such a level. He was fully capable of finding someone for himself even if it was taking him inherently longer than everyone else in his circle.

 “As stubborn as ever,” Nao commented lightly.

Ikuya continued stirring his latte, pretending to get lost in the swirls. “Is this how you plan on keeping me company?”

“You haven’t complained yet.”

“I’m putting in my complaint now.”

Nao chuckled, a genuine smile dancing across his thin lips as he stood up from the table. “The offer still stands.” He gave the table two taps with his knuckles before strolling off towards the counter to place his own drink order.

Being located so close to the town’s university was both a blessing and a curse. While it brought in plenty of customers to keep the coffeeshop up and running, it also meant plenty of students his age wandering in and out… reminding him that he couldn’t use his job as an excuse for his lack of a love life.

His focus drifted around the shop, eyeing the rustic browns, orange and yellow hues. It fit the sunshine and fire theme the Mikoshibas (the family owners) were going for and matched their ginger selves perfectly. The name of their shop had apparently been established a long time ago when their grandfather fire roasted coffee beans as an experiment on a camping trip.

Each one of the Mikoshibas possessed a big, boisterous attitude and it was no wonder that their coffee shop was the most frequented in the area. They were warm, inviting, and prided themselves in their confidence and wide grins.

Ikuya felt out of place. He just lacked the geniality the shop radiated, and he knew the only reason he had a job there was because Natsuya secured him one.

Everything Ikuya possessed was because of Natsuya and Nao.

With a deep sigh, he finally buried his negative thoughts and rose from the table to resume his shift. Honestly, he tried not to focus on the negativity, it’s just that he was constantly surrounded by reminders.

He shook his head- _no_ , he was done with self-loathing today. _Remember the positive things,_ he told himself, immediately sounding off the list he’d rehearsed a thousand times. For starters, he no longer lived at home… Again, Natsuya and Nao’s doing, but at least he was somewhat independent. Also, he didn’t have to freak out every time he purchased a new manga because his job paid well and he barely had any bills to cover. Thirdly, whenever he found the _rare_ sudden urge to be social, he had friends to call up and hang with (two of his co-workers but that was besides the point). Fourthly, as cheesy as it sounded, he was loved and was an important person to the people who mattered.

-x-

Things were slow, insufferably slow, and Ikuya realized there were only so many times he could wipe down the espresso machines.

“If you’re _really_ bored, you could always sweep the shop,” Natsuya commented, leaning over with a taunting smile.

“Stop trying to get me to do your job,” Ikuya barked back lazily, drumming his fingers on the countertop.

His brother chuckled his usual warm laugh and continued with his own duties, leaving Ikuya to fend his boredom himself. The tiny, almost inaudible bell of the shop rang, announcing a new customer. Ikuya never understood why the Mikoshiba family bothered with it when it could only be heard whenever it was a slow afternoon like this one. Either way, he stood, automatically smoothing his bright marigold apron and exhaling a slow breath before flicking his attention to the customer.

If anyone were standing near Ikuya, they would’ve heard his breath hitch and watched his footing falter. The customer, possibly a celebrity with his razzle dazzle of a smile, gracefully stepped inside the shop with gentle ease. Slowly, he undid the maroon scarf around his neck to hang loosely on his shoulders and unbuttoned his navy peacoat, revealing a lilac knit turtleneck sweater and burgundy fitted jeans. His tawny oxfords screamed, “I’m wealthy,” with every elegant step he took.

His bubblegum locks framed his face with effortless waves and silky shine. Ikuya cursed silently to himself for the man’s impeccable creamy skin and his sharp, yet somehow soft features. His amethyst eyes shone brightly, matching the color of his turtleneck exactly and were framed with thick black lashes. This customer, stranger, and possible famous person was utter perfection.

A blush quickly spread across Ikuya’s cheeks when he’d realized he’d been caught staring. He swallowed it down as best he could and ran through his usual scripted intro with a timid voice while his ears continued to burn.  

The gorgeous man hummed, low and soft with a single finger on his chin as he cradled his elbow. After a moment of perusing the menu, his eyes locked with pools of amber and he casually asked, “Is the toasted marshmallow mocha as orgasmic as you're advertising it to be?”

Ikuya swore his eyebrows shot to his hairline, not prepared at all for how nonchalantly this person just said, _“orgasmic”._ He choked on his spit as he barely regained his composure; his usual sarcastic tone somehow lost in the shock. “Uh-” he faltered, completely at a loss for words.

“Because if it really does,” the man squinted at the chalkboard behind Ikuya, “‘ _Make you warm and fuzzy inside after just one sip_ ’ then I’d like a Grande, please.”

Ikuya chanted a string of obscenities in his mind at the youngest Mikoshiba sibling for their newest sign at the coffee shop. He gave a curt nod and punched in the order with deliberation, trying to distract himself from the downright sinful smirk the customer bore.

“360 yen.”

The man swiped his card as Ikuya got to work on his drink, feeling the heated gaze upon him with every move he made.

“ _Kiss me.”_

Ikuya fumbled with the cup. “What?”

“Kisumi,” the stranger stated again. “You know, for the cup?”

“R-right,” Ikuya nodded.

 _Kisumi_ smiled at him, turning on his heel and striding away with poise. Ikuya’s eyes traveled along the customer’s body for longer than necessary before scolding himself not to get caught up over a customer. Quickly, he put his hands and mind to work in completing the order, dirtying the once clean machines and running through the routine with practiced ease.

A low whistle from behind him caught his attention just as he snapped the lid onto the cup. He knew who it was before he even turned around.

Natsuya's eyes didn’t meet his own, they were too busy studying Kisumi.

“Don’t you already have a boyfriend?” Ikuya questioned dryly.

“Ha ha.” Natsuya flicked him on the shoulder. “I’m not looking for me; I’m looking for you.”

Ikuya clicked his tongue at his brother, ignoring him and placing the mocha on the communal counter. Right when he opened his mouth to call out for the customer to grab their drink, Natsuya stopped him.

“Walk over there and give it to him yourself.”

Ikuya shot him an agitated look with his brows scrunched together in disbelief. “What?” he hissed. “No.”

“How do you expect to get a boyfriend, Iku, if you can’t even approach a guy?!” Natsuya whispered harshly back, pushing him out from behind the counter while Ikuya tried standing his ground. Finally he relented to the shove in the _right_ direction and earned a slap to his ass. “Now go show off that perky ass!”

Ikuya jumped at the invasion to his bubble, but proceeded forward anyway. Kisumi seemed to be in his own little world as his eyes scanned across the table littered with papers and textbooks. Ikuya shelved the theory of him being a celebrity because clearly, he was student from the Uni nearby, but still, wasn’t it weird that he hadn’t seen him all semester until now?

With cautious steps he approached the corner table farthest from the barista counter (his personal favorite) and placed the cup in the only open space of the table, announcing his presence in the subtlest way possible. So subtle that Kisumi hadn’t noticed, still too engrossed in his studies. Ikuya gradually withdrew his fingers from the coffee with every intention to silently turn right back around and stalk back off, but something caught his eye.

A solid black spiral sketchbook laid beneath a few of the papers and Ikuya felt his fingers twitch in interest. Art always fascinated him but he could never quite grasp the technique; his strength lie in writing.

“You can look through it if you want,” Kisumi commented lightly without looking up, apparently Ikuya's presence had been noticed.

Embarrassed by being caught dawdling, Ikuya declined with a quiet, “I’m working.”

Kisumi chuckled and briefly glanced around the deserted shop before raising an accusing brow at Ikuya. He said nothing, holding steady eye contact until embarrassed amber depths flitted back to the black book.

_Maybe just a look…_

Ikuya's curiosity encouraged his hand to pick up the hardcover sketchbook and carefully open it to reveal its contents. Kisumi paid him no mind as he sipped his drink and hummed softly to himself, returning his attention back to his work.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Ikuya flipped open the book in his hands and let his mind get lost in the pages. There were the usual sketches of flowers, birds, simple things in everyday life, but as the pages progressed so did the talent. The strokes gained confidence with a finer point and a sharper line. Ikuya had become so engrossed with the details, he hadn’t even realized he sat down in the chair across from the artist.

Once he reached the halfway point, it’d been clear that Kisumi had found a different muse. Sketches of men and women filled the pages in numerous poses, at first without hands as if Kisumi hadn’t quite grasped the way to illustrate fingers. However, it didn’t take him very long to nail that detail as well and soon his subjects had become full figures adding a new feature with each turn of the page.

Ikuya thumbed at the next page and consciously had to tell himself to hold his composure. Instead of one nude male, there were two, sharing a rather intimate moment or at least about to begin one. Their heads were tilted towards one another with their hands ghosting each other’s bodies. It was a simple feather of touch that radiated desire, drawing Ikuya further down the rabbit hole. So again, he turned the page.

The further he delved, the deeper his cheeks burned. A subtle romantic energy morphed into a ferocious passion that put porn to shame, and for some _insane_ reason, Ikuya’s trembling fingers continued on…

Until one image caused him to slam the sketchbook shut and abruptly stand from the table, specifically avoiding Kisumi’s gaze. Somehow, he managed a curt “enjoy your time” before briskly walking away straight towards the kitchen. Embarrassment about the way he reacted would kick in later, his frustration with the stranger encouraging him to take a peek would kick in later, but right now he just needed to bring his heartrate back down to a normal rhythm.  

-x-

Natsuya tormented him for the next few days about the bubblegum-haired beauty that had left him a flushing mess. Every time Ikuya would gaze around the shop, a voice would appear at his ear asking if he was looking for anyone in particular. Anytime he’d step in just from being out in the cold bitter air, Natsuya would be there to ask if he had another run in with the vixen.

Ikuya was sure he was going to murder his brother if the teasing continued and prayed that Kisumi never showed his face again at Fire Roasted.  

Or at least not while Natsuya was working.

Ikuya would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about the man several times in the last few days, and maybe when his eyes drifted across the coffee shop, he was hoping to see those familiar pink curls. Or maybe his winter chill blush was from the memories of those images in the sketchbook and not just the freezing temperatures, but Natsuya didn’t need to know that.

However, his brother’s teasing nature had drawn attention to Ikuya’s predicament and somehow everyone at the shop knew he was crushing on a customer. Sei Mikoshiba, the owner of the shop and family friend, assured him it happened to all of them at least once, but encouraged him not to act on it during working hours. Ikuya failed to come up with a response due to his astonishment of having to listen to a longwinded lecture when he hadn’t even said more than a few sentences to Kisumi. Nor did he have the confidence to act on whatever he was feeling in his gut.

However, along with the embarrassment, stewed the frustration that Kisumi just casually allowed him to flip through a book full of two men having full-blown sex and hadn’t even offer a warning.

Then a small, tiny, sliver of thought crossed Ikuya’s mind.

_Maybe he wanted me to see them?_

 “ _Shit_.” Ikuya almost dropped the cup in his hands, sloshing burning hot coffee over the brim and onto his hand. He quickly set the cup down, whipping out a towel and cleaning up the mess before running his hand under cold water. 

For a moment he considered dunking his head under the water, wondering if it’d snap him out of whatever weird haze he’d fallen under. However, the universe had a different way of distracting him.

A loud voice called the name for the cup of coffee he’d abandoned, successfully pulling his attention back to the present. The youngest Mikoshiba handed off the order before turning to face him with raised eyebrows.

“You okay?”

“…I’m fine,” Ikuya answered tersely.

If it were Sei he was dealing with, then the conversation would’ve been far from over, but it was Momo- bright, bubbly, sometimes almost completely oblivious _Momo_. The guy who didn’t know the bus boy was head over heels for him _Momo_.

Picking up on the unexplainable sixth sense that his ani seemed to possess, Natsuya appeared at his side. “I’ll cover the register.” His brother looked down at him, “Go take your break.”

Ikuya relented, not daring to cause a scene and argue with Natsuya. He knew when to pick his battles and if his mind was too clouded with thoughts that he burned himself, then he probably shouldn’t be dealing with customers.

As usual, he tucked himself away in the furthest corner of the shop even though his safe space had been tainted with humiliation. Because he sat so close to the entrance, Ikuya could hear the gentle ring of the bell even with the hustle and bustle of the students around him, studying like mad men. He watched a few people file in and out with dull eyes, attempting to distract himself from the memories stewing in his mind.

A flash of pink had his mind reeling, his unfocused eyes suddenly honing in on the familiar bounce and walk of someone who’d plagued his mind for the last 72 hours. Kisumi strode forward with an easiness that others envied, pulling attention to him like a siren. Several pairs of eyes landed on him, all falling under his trance. It reminded Ikuya of Natsuya, except instead of people approaching and flirting to get a (hopefully) free cup of coffee, the bystanders remained seated as if they were intimidated by the charmer.

Speaking of Natsuya, he effortlessly welcomed the _model_ with an overexuberant gesture briefly flashing his wiggling eyebrows at Ikuya. Kisumi didn’t turn around as he fished out his wallet from his messenger bag, so he must not have noticed Natsuya’s obvious motions.

Ikuya leaned forward, trying his hardest to tune into their voices but failed to hear anything more than Natsuya’s hearty chuckle. Jealously panged him as it tended to when it came to his brother, at the thought of them flirting. Ikuya knew that Natsuya only flirted back just enough to keep the customers coming, but the thought him doing it with Kisumi irritated him to no ends.

Though maybe the pain in his chest was from the thought of _another_ person liking Natsuya more than him… _again._

Ikuya was jaded.

He knew it was natural to feel this way due to the amount of times he’d been let down in the past, but he hated how much it affected him now. How much he let those negative thoughts drag him down his endless spiral. But when relationships with past lovers, partners, possibilities, _whatever you want to call them_ , ended the way his seemed to, then anyone would’ve been jaded too.

There were only so many times Ikuya could be someone’s second choice.

Kisumi wasn’t _his_ though, not even a possibility, and _god-_ he felt idiotic for even traveling down that path of self-loathing for a guy he literally didn’t know. There just seemed to be something about the stranger that drew him in. Probably the charm, the smile, the feigned innocence of every blunt word he spoke. The man had confidence, everyone could see it, feel it. It commanded the room, drawing attention wherever he walked, and just like everyone else, Ikuya was pulled into Kisumi’s orbit.

“I was tempted to make a joke about you taking a picture ‘cause it’d last longer, but you’re not actually looking at me.”

The voice cut through him like a knife, dragging his eyes slowly up a familiar navy peacoat to a pair of amused amethyst eyes.

“Much better,” Kisumi smiled. “Now I can make the joke.”

Ikuya didn’t know how to respond, but his body went into fight or flight, bringing him to stand on nervous legs. Apparently running seemed easier than sitting around and trying to make small talk.

“I scared you off already?” Kisumi asked with a smirk as he sat down across the table. “I didn’t even get to show you my new sketches.”

Ikuya gaped at him, his limbs freezing tightly and locking him into place. Kisumi’s smirk widened, his eyes carrying a wicked flame, and Ikuya discovered his ground, “What makes you think I want to see them?”

His frustration and humiliation from their last run in finally caught up with him and the taunting Kisumi was dishing out now fed the fire.

“The fact that you’re already blushing just thinking about them.”

Had Ikuya been blushing? Kisumi sounded so certain, but couldn’t his annoyance just be coming through instead?

“So you have been thinking about them?” The male pushed, glancing up at him with curious wide eyes. Something in Ikuya’s gut told him that Kisumi was the predator and he was the prey.

And he’d been cornered.

“You should warn people before offering up your sketchbook,” Ikuya finally responded.

“Most people stop after halfway.” Kisumi leaned toward him with a hand cradling his head. “But not you,” he said smugly.

All usual sarcastic comebacks dissipated, leaving his mind blank and his mouth stunned. Fortunately, unfortunately- Ikuya didn’t know, someone else decided to join the conversation.

“Kisumi.” Natsuya approached with an orange house mug in hand and a hospitable smile.

“Such great service here!” Kisumi praised, accepting the cup with eager hands and offering Natsuya a fond look.

Ikuya couldn’t help the soft ‘tch’ from the click of his tongue, bringing his brother’s attention to him.

“How rude of me,” he voiced dramatically. “I forgot to get you a drink, Iku-kun.” Ikuya physically cringed at the nickname. “Stay right there.” Natsuya winked as if he were doing him a favor and briskly walked back to the counter.

Ikuya internally sighed, taking a few steps backwards and slumping back down into his chair. When he finally gained enough courage to face his _company_ , Kisumi was already engrossed in one of his textbooks, skimming the pages and highlighting the key bits with a bright neon pink.

He expected for the teasing to pick right back up as soon as his brother walked off, but Kisumi had zero interest in him.  Had Kisumi just wanted Natsuya to deliver his coffee to him so he kept Ikuya around to make him look busy? He knew that was a bit of a stretch, but his mind automatically went to the idea of someone wanting Natsuya’s attention rather than his own.

His brow furrowed in concentration, begging his mind to come up with another reason that didn’t leave him feeling –

“Frowning gives you wrinkles,” Kisumi commented, breaking the chain of thoughts. Who was this guy? Just blunt and brash, saying whatever he damn well pleased with a smile that made it seem like he was doing everyone a favor.

“So does smiling,” Ikuya defended, subconsciously pouting further. 

Kisumi laughed, warm and inviting with all pearly whites on display. “So bitter,” he tsk-ed.

Ikuya had to make a conscious effort not to smirk back, luckily his brother’s reappearance distracted Kisumi.

“One mocha with a shot of espresso, hold the whip,” Natsuya rambled off, delivering another steaming house cup.

Ikuya furrowed his brow. “Break’s over in fi-”

“Your break starts now,” Natsuya spoke over him, _subtly_ nudging his head in Kisumi’s direction. “ _Enjoy._ ”

Now he had fifteen minutes to kill while sitting with Kisumi. Ikuya slumped, thumbing the rim of his cup as he cradled it in his hands. He realized what Natsuya had done by restarting his break, but Ikuya didn’t know how to make small talk… especially with guys like _Kisumi._

“Do you always think so much?” Kisumi pondered aloud, his voice rich and smooth. It almost sounded genuine.

As a natural reaction, Ikuya shaded himself with his own bangs. The tips of his ears already burning as he’d been blatantly caught zoning off for umpteenth time.

“Yeah… I guess.”

Kisumi hummed and Ikuya could feel those playful depths on him. “Well I’m Kisumi Shigino. I’m twenty years old and attend the nearby university on a basketball scholarship except I’m an art major.” He must have read the shock in Ikuya’s face because his next words were, “Yes, my family is okay with it and support me as long as I’m happy. I have a younger brother who I would kill anyone for and I spend most of free time with him.” Kisumi continued, discussing his hobbies outside of basketball and art. He enjoys rock climbing, hiking, baking, and playing video games, and is looking forward to winter break because he hasn’t been able to do any of those things in a long while because exams have been a nightmare.

Ikuya asked the first thing that popped into his head because he’d been thinking about his career since the day he saw him, “How do you make money?”

Kisumi chuckled. “My family works in reality and sometimes I show apartments or houses whenever I’m available to.”

“When do you sleep?” Certainly there wasn’t enough time in the day for him to do all those things and still hold a job.

“Haven’t you ever heard that sleep is for the weak?”

“You’re insane.”

“I’ve been called worse things.” Kisumi shrugged. “I also model for some of the beginner art classes. Doesn’t pay much but it’s fun.”

“Of course you’re a model,” Ikuya mumbled under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

If Kisumi had heard him, he let it slide. “Hmm so what about you? I’m assuming you don’t attend Uni since I’ve never seen you around.”

“How do you know? I tend to fade it into the background.”

“Do you?” Kisumi cocked a brow, tilting his head forward.

“… No.”

“Point made.”

Ikuya swallowed down the urge to roll his eyes. Natsuya always told him that guys weren’t too fond of such an attitude. “Ikuya Kirishima, twenty. I live with my brother and his partner at their house, and I work here, write, read, and swim.”

Kisumi shook his head, a smirk once again plastering his flawless features. “We’re gonna have to work on your social skills.”

“I was straight forward,” Ikuya defended, because this whole scenario was new to him. Sure he’d been on a date and even in situations where he was forced to make small talk, but never something like this where he had fifteen minutes to talk with someone who flustered him just by making eye contact.

“And vague.” Kisumi waved him off with a flutter of his fingers, moving his attention back to textbooks and papers.

“Fine,” Ikuya huffed, frustrated with how quickly his _company_ could lose interest. “My dad walked out on us when I was two. My mom lives a 3-hour train ride away, so we rarely see her. Natsuya is the only reason I have a job and roof over my head, and I wish I had so-,” he cut himself short before he could finish, staring wide-eyed at Kisumi and wishing he could crawl back into his safe space.

“Why did you move to the city?”

The question shocked him more than the drawings had because Kisumi had an opportunity to push for the rest of his sentence, but he dropped it, instead pushing for a normal conversation. Ikuya let go of the breath he’d been holding and took another drink from his cup, allowing him time to grip his emotions and impassive demeanor.

“Natsuya moved out here first for university and convinced to me to follow when I graduated.”

“Do you always do what your brother says?”

 _Yes_. Natsuya had never let him down, so there weren’t any reasons for him not to. His brother had always been there for him, to pave the road, set the path, and help Ikuya cross whatever bridge he happened upon. Maybe he didn’t _always_ do what his brother said, but he did always take Natsuya’s advice into consideration.

The way Kisumi asked had been out of genuine curiosity, not something for Ikuya to get defensive about, but a part of him did want to defend his independence. “Not _always._ ”

Kisumi laughed, loud and appealing, drawing a few pairs of eyes to their corner. “You’re cute.”

Flames engulfed his cheeks, making the burn on his hand not seem so bad. A person with suave, sophistication, _confidence_ would’ve responded with a compliment in return, but Ikuya wasn’t any of those things. _You’re gorgeous_ was at the forefront of his mind, but it never reached his tongue.

“Break’s up.”

 _Idiot_ he scolded himself, internally face palming.  

Luckily, Kisumi took it in stride, completely unaffected by the blatant dismissal of his compliment. Looking up at Ikuya with a flirtatious twinkle in his eye, he asked, “Are you gonna leave your number or are we going to keep playing this game of cat and mouse?”

Ikuya chewed his lip, mildly from the giddiness that just surged through him, and mainly to keep himself from responding with _why_. Instead, for the first time in his two years of dating, he casually picked up a page of Kisumi’s notes and fished out a sharpie from the front of his apron. Quickly, before the insecurities sunk in, he wrote his number at the top right corner and returned the paper to its owner.

He managed to avoid any eye contact that’d leave him a trembling mess and briskly walked away, praying for someone to grant him self-assurance more often.

-x-

It didn’t take for long for Ikuya to receive a text asking when they could hang out outside of Fire Roasted. He wondered how Kisumi even had time to give him with final exams right around the corner but didn’t hesitate to agree.

Unfortunately, the words “hang out” stirred the confusion in Ikuya’s mind. Between the compliment, the flirting, the teasing, wasn’t this a date? It had to be a date, even Natsuya had bothered him about it, throwing different outfits at him to wear as if he didn’t know how to dress himself.

Still, he ended up in freshly pressed khaki trousers, a maroon sweater with a white button down underneath, and a brand-new pair of vans that matched accordingly. Natsuya suggested he do something with his hair, but Ikuya knew he needed the security his bangs provided if he were to spend an entire afternoon _alone_ with Kisumi.

They settled on a bookstore near the University that had a café and plenty of places to sit and read. Ikuya had visited the store a few times but he preferred reading at home in their own library while Nao graded papers at his big oak desk. It was their bonding time and he’d always cherished that.

With a passing glance at his messenger bag that housed his laptop, he grabbed his wallet and keys and headed out the door. As a writer, there was always the temptation of carrying his laptop or notebook anywhere he went, but if this were a date, he probably should give his undivided attention to Kisumi.

As always, Ikuya arrived at _Books & Things _ten minutes before the set time. He stayed on the first floor with all the books and lounging areas, roaming aisles he’d been down at least hundred times before. Typically, he avoided the upstairs because that’s where the café was, and it was always jammed pack with students brainstorming and studying together. It was always nosier than Fire Roasted and Ikuya never could figure out the reason why.

 His feet lead him to his most frequented aisle as his fingertips casually dragged along the bindings of his favorite genre. Well, his _almost_ favorite genre. Gay romance was an acquired taste (according to authors) and even then, there was a fine line between pure sex and an actual idealistic gay relationship.

So, he’d settled with the deep romances between a man and woman, getting lost in the pages of something he wondered if he’d ever had. He’d ride the waves of angst, emotional woes, heart wrenching confessions, and whispered pleas. It was plain and simple, he loved reading about love.

Writing on the other hand was a completely different story. He wrote whatever left his fingertips. Sometimes he’d produce a metaphorical short story, a 10 stanza AB rhyming poem, or a multi-chaptered story that’d only end in disaster. His mind conjured thousands of things and the only time romance occurred was in his poetry during his very few relationships. But the moment things ended, so did the roses and butterflies. As cliché as it was, his writing turned dark, yanking out his deepest, insecure thoughts and making even the toughest of people breakdown.

“I would’ve pegged you as a thriller kinda guy.”

Ikuya dropped the book he hadn’t realized he’d been holding at the alluring voice over his shoulder.

“Surprise,” Kisumi greeted brightly with a coffee in each hand as Ikuya scrambled to pick up the book. He managed to get his trembling fingers under control enough to place the book back on the shelf and turn around to face his… _friend?_

Kisumi looked as gorgeous as ever in dark fitted jeans and a steel sweater. Today he was bundled in a multi-colored scarf, and wore a navy knitted beanie. Still, even in his more comfortable attire, he appeared flawless and like people went to him for fashion advice.

He held out a cup of coffee in an unspoken truce. “A mocha with a shot of espresso, no whip.”

It was a date.

It was most definitely, without a doubt a date.

Ikuya’s heart swelled at the thought and the burning that always happened when Kisumi was around returned, searing both his cheeks and ears. “Thanks,” he bashfully uttered, accepting the coffee.

“So romance, huh?” Kisumi questioned, glancing at the long shelves of novels. “Is that what you write too?” His face showed genuine interest as he waited for a response.

“I write whatever comes to mind,” Ikuya answered truthfully, staring at his cup so he could avoid the dazzling depths focused on him. His fingers lightly circled the lid as he briefly thought about his latest writing: a thriller revolving around a homicidal maniac-

A delicate finger tapped his forehead, “You ever gonna tell me what’s going on inside that head of yours?”

“Probably not,” he offered with a soft smile and shrug. He tilted his head up, gazing at the bindings that bore many recognizable titles. “If I write romance, it’s a very small piece to a complex puzzle.”

Kisumi strolled passed him, taking in their surroundings and eyeing the books with gold trim. Ikuya smiled to himself, _he would be attracted the shiny ones._

“A poet too,” Kisumi deduced, grabbing a royal blue hard cover from the shelf and gracefully flipping it open on his knee, so he could hold it open with one hand.

“Sometimes.”

Kisumi hummed, snapping the book shut and sliding it back into its cubby. “How often do you write?” He started walking again to the end of the aisle and Ikuya followed.

“Whenever inspiration hits.”

“ _Kuya_ ,” Kisumi whined, rounding the corner. “How do you expect me to get to know you when you won’t give me full answers?”

Ikuya was glad Kisumi’s back was to him so he could hide the smile the nickname had conjured. “I tell you more than most.”

Perhaps not entirely true, but true enough. He’d never disclosed information about his writing this quickly before (and certainly not about his dad abandoning them), but something about Kisumi made him want to. A part of Ikuya wanted to please him so he could see the sincere, stunning smile and to hear the gratitude in his charming voice.

“You’re thinking again,” Kisumi sing-songed without turning around.

 _True._ “You haven’t shared that much about yourself, either. What do you like to read?” Deflection, an art Ikuya had mastered at the young age of six.

“I don’t.”

“What?”

Kisumi turned around, idly stepping back as he did. “Unless you count manga, I don’t read.”

Ikuya furrowed his brows as he stopped dead in his tracks. “Then why are we at a bookstore?”

“And here I thought writers were smart.” He brought his hand to his chest and shrugged, “Silly me.”

_Definitely. A. Date._

“Will you tell me what I want to know now?” Kisumi cocked his head playfully, smiling as if he just caught Ikuya in an invisible web.

“… Yes.”

“Come on then.” Kisumi reached forward, grabbing his free hand and leading them out of the aisles. He weaved them in and out until they reached a corner of bean bags and plushies. Ikuya didn’t even know it existed and he’d been here multiple times.

“How’d you find this?” He voiced his curiosity aloud the moment Kisumi let go of his hand.

“I always know the secret make-out spots.”

Ikuya regretted taking a drink right then as he choked on the mocha, registering just what had been said. Did Kisumi plan on…? In public? Right here? “Sh-shit,” he spluttered, desperate to stop choking.

“The thought of kissing me disgusts you that much? I’m hurt, Kuya,” Kisumi joked. “I’m just messing with you, no need to die.”

Ikuya tried his best to ‘laugh it off’, but Kisumi wasn’t paying him any mind as he plopped down onto one of the cozy chairs. “Someone I know used to work here and he told me about this spot.”

That made a lot more since. Not that Kisumi didn’t seem like the guy to have multiple secret make-out places, but he highly doubted the male spent his free time in a store he never visited to make-out with someone.

Kisumi didn’t allow his mind to wander too long, bringing his focus back to his writings and asking for more details. So, Ikuya told him about his latest projects, his favorite stories, where he most often drew inspiration from. It was weird, but insanely refreshing for someone to listen to him so attentively, displaying true interest. He’d never had that, and honestly, he couldn’t remember the last time he spoke so much.

Then what really did it for him, what really caused the fluttering in his stomach was the sincere, “Would you let me read something sometime?”

“I thought you didn’t read?”

Kisumi reached over and grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly. “I’d read yours.”

Just as quickly as the moment happened, it was over with a soft ring coming from Kisumi’s pocket. With a quiet apology, he fished out his phone and immediately answered it. Ikuya would’ve given him privacy but there really wasn’t a place for him to go so he just sat there awkwardly, pretending to be interested in the shelves surrounding them.

“What about Yuki? She has afternoons off?” Kisumi asked into the phone, and Ikuya could already tell where their conversation was headed.

Someone needed him to cover someone else’s shift. So, when he hung up and explained that the model for the day’s beginner class got food poisoning, and he was asked to fill in. Ikuya prepared himself to say goodbye, but Kisumi stunned him again.

“Come with me!”

If it were anyone else (except maybe his brother) Ikuya would’ve said no, but Kisumi made it clear that he wasn’t ready for their time together to end yet because things had just gotten started, and it didn’t take long for Ikuya to find himself walking side by side with Kisumi to the university.

The moment they arrived at the designated classroom, Kisumi explained how long the class would take and that Ikuya could sit anywhere he liked. He offered a brief _‘See you in a bit’_ before disappearing behind a long, red curtain.  

By the time Ikuya evaluated his surrounding and situated himself in the back of the room, students began filing in with their oversized sketch pads and artist’s bags. Each sat in their respective seats that all circled around the center of the room. Some of the students shared idle chit-chat while others placed headphones in their ears, preparing themselves for their work ahead. The energy in the room was different than Ikuya had ever witnessed, and he regretted not bringing his trusty messenger bag with him.

Although, it only seemed fair to give Kisumi his full attention when the guy had done the same for him, so he sat on his stool, patiently waiting for the class to begin. Luckily, it didn’t take long for a frazzled woman of short stature and wild silver hair to bustle in, asking the few students standing to take their seats. She informed them there was a slight change in plans since the original model called in sick and Kisumi would take their place. Ikuya couldn’t help but notice the whispers and small giggles between a few girls.

“You must be Kisumi’s friend?” The woman addressed him, earning twenty pairs of eyes to look back at him.

Ikuya cleared his throat. “H-hai.”

She nodded firmly. “If you’d like to join us, there are extra supplies in the closet behind you.”

“Thank you.”

With a confirmation nod, she clapped her hands together and called for the model to come out. Almost immediately, Kisumi appeared in a white cotton robe with curls more tousled than they usually were and Ikuya quickly dismissed it as _hat hair_ , finding it incredibly endearing.

Kisumi didn’t look at Ikuya once as he strolled out to the chaise in the middle of the circle. Slowly, he lowered himself onto the old-fashioned lounge chair, shimmying his robe off as he went and revealing nothing but toned planes of creamy skin.

Ikuya swallowed. _Hard._

Kisumi settled into an easy position, on his back with a relaxed arm above his head with the other laying across his stomach. The instructor of the class brought over a silk sheet, the color of wine red, and draped it loosely along his long, toned muscular legs. It just so happened to _conveniently_ fall over his private area.

“Begin.”

The students didn’t waste any time, sketching each detail of Kisumi’s body. The sound of graphite scratching across paper filled the room and as they worked religiously while Kisumi just laid there as if it were the easiest job in the world. Ikuya couldn’t help but study him, and even though he’d thought (briefly) to give his friend… _date_ some privacy, the body was on full display and his eyes gravitated towards it.

Rationally, Ikuya knew Kisumi had to be built beneath the pristine sweaters and designer jeans, but what his mind had conjured didn’t hold a candle to the real deal. There wasn’t a single blemish amongst his broadened shoulders, muscular chest, narrow hips, and _strong_ thighs. Ikuya’s eyes raked over his body again with precision, wishing for the umpteenth time that he had his laptop with him, because Kisumi was truly an inspiration.

Ikuya searched among the sketches in hopes to find something that did Kisumi justice, but _nothing_. Nothing could do him justice. Of course, the sketches were beautiful but Ikuya strongly felt that not even Michelangelo could perfect the art of Kisumi.

Amber depths traced up the chiseled torso on display, reaching soft and pink lips. With a lax jaw, Kisumi breathed slowly, his face depicting complete and utter peace. His eyes were hooded with his gaze glued to somewhere in the distance, and Ikuya swore he never blinked. How someone could stay this calm while naked in a room full of people beguiled him… and impressed him.

Before Ikuya had realized it, the hour passed, and the students hastily sketched their last-minute details, either adding an extra curl or extending his lash line. He watched as some of the students shared their work, some baring proud grins while others sagged their shoulders and slumped off towards the exit.  

For the third time that afternoon, Ikuya prayed for his laptop to appear out of thin air.

A few of the artists rounded up their courage and confronted Kisumi after he covered himself with the robe again to showcase their art. He smiled at each and every one of them, effortlessly and graciously, handing out suggestions and compliments in means to help.

The more Ikuya observed him, the more he struggled with accepting the fact they were currently on a date. Though, the moment he had the thought of doubt, gleaming amethyst eyes found him in the crowd and managed to stop any negative thought about to enter his mind. With a gentle ‘ _excuse me’_ to the fellow artists, he broke through the crowd and approached Ikuya.

“How bored were you?”

“I wasn’t bored.”

“Well how could you be, you were looking at _my_ body,” he winked, smirking pridefully.

 _Two could play that game._ “You think I just sat here for the last hour staring at you? I knew you were conceited, but don’t flatter yourself too much.”

Kisumi chuckled, “Now he decides to get cheeky.”

Ikuya shrugged, biting back his smile. “Someone has to bring you down a notch.”

“Come over.”

“What?”

“Come over,” Kisumi said clearly. “I’ll cook for you and we can watch a movie.”

Ikuya swallowed, trying to stop the butterflies in his stomach at the thought of a night alone with _Kisumi_. “Okay.”

-x-

Kisumi’s apartment was exactly what Ikuya expected it to be, wide, open, and immaculate. It looked as if he stepped inside one of those Home Garden magazines and not a young adult’s apartment.  The living space was filled with different shades of teals, purples, and greys, and of course each wall was covered in art.

His host threw together a simple stir-fry for them, and Ikuya gained the courage to ask him about some of the pieces, wondering if all of them had been from the university students. Their conversations flowed effortlessly, and Ikuya realized he could listen to Kisumi talk all day, and eat his cooking for the rest of his life.

After dinner, they cleaned up and winded down on the steel sectional in the middle of the living room. Kisumi immediately offered Ikuya the remote, who barely flipped through the channels before settling on an action movie he’d assumed they both had already seen. A half an hour of idle chit chat passed before Kisumi stood from the couch.

“I’m gonna go change into something more comfortable,” he gestured towards the bedroom.

Ikuya nodded in understanding and continued to watch the movie, wondering if maybe when Kisumi came back he’d man up and hold the guy’s hand. His focus had kept dodging from the movie to the open palm that’d just been laying in the space between them. They’d technically already held hands today, so it shouldn’t be too hard for him to reach over and initiate… _Right?_

“Kuya,” Kisumi sang from the bedroom, “Can you come here please?”

 _Weird,_ Ikuya briefly thought, rising to his feet and shuffling to the bedroom. He almost asked if Kisumi were okay, but it was barely ten steps from the couch to the bedroom door, so there really wasn’t a point.

With a hesitant hand he opened the bedroom door, where candlelight flickered wildly from all different directions. In the middle of the back wall was a king-sized bed with plum silk sheets and a white feather-down duvet with matching pillows. Lounging comfortably in the midst of it all was Kisumi…

Completely naked for the second time that day.

“Try keeping your eyes off me now,” Kisumi purred as he rubbed his bare thighs together and beckoned him forward.

Panic struck Ikuya before arousal, his feet carrying him backwards as his focus darted anywhere but the bedroom. Naturally, he landed flat on his ass, trying to escape the situation. He had never… He didn’t know ho-   _Breathe._

To make matters a million time worse the image of Kisumi would not leave his mind.

He scrambled over, standing on his quivering legs and tailing it to the door. Running away seemed like a viable option, that’s what he always did when his emotions or situations became unbearable, and he didn’t know how to deal with saying ‘no’ to a guy like Kisumi… let alone saying _yes._

“Are you not gay?”

Ikuya barely managed to turn around to see Kisumi, disheveled and hastily wrapped in a robe. His need to defend just about bubbled over, but his appalment kept him in check. “I am but…” He could feel the heat across his cheeks worsen as he searched his mind for a way to best explain his predicament.

However, Kisumi had figured it our right then and there, in Ikuya’s hesitancy. “You’re a virgin.”

“Don’t say it like it’s such a bad thing,” Ikuya mumbled, feeling defeated and wrapping his arms around himself to give a sense of security.

“I’m not,” Kisumi assured sincerely, testing the waters with a single step. “That’s just the first time someone’s ever run after seeing me naked, usually they’re lin-…” He stopped himself from finishing the sentence, but it didn’t make Ikuya feel any better. “Never mind,” Kisumi finished.

Ikuya sighed, pulling his arms closer. “Yeah, you’re gorgeous, I get it,” he responded, feeling more and more embarrassed as time ticked on.

A gentle smile shattered Kisumi’s worried features as he took another step forward. “You think I’m gorgeous?”

The predatory glare he bore so well glazed over his eyes as he crept closer, entering Ikuya’s bubble with zero warning. A shiver ran up Ikuya’s spine, his mind running a million miles per minute. “Well not everyone has the luxury of people lining up to f-”

“I’m lining up for you,” Kisumi whispered, inches away from his face.

Ikuya’s breath hitched, his mind tempted to ask _why_ but refraining from doing so, because the look in Kisumi’s eyes told him every reason he needed to know.

“Am I allowed to kiss you or are you going to run for the hills?” Kisumi asked, his nose brushing against Ikuya’s. He blew out a slow, warm breath, bringing his lips to hover over Ikuya’s, waiting for permission.

“Depends how bad you are at it,” Ikuya quietly snarked just before Kisumi seized his lips in a gentle passion that casted out any remnants of self-doubt.

In one kiss from Kisumi, Ikuya realized that yet again, Kisumi wasn’t like any of his past _lovers._ He was attentive, generous, passionate, knew just the right amount of tongue and when to nibble his bottom lip. His hands were respectful and careful, only dropping to Ikuya’s waist when given the signal, and not daring to dip below.

Kisumi’s lips were soft, inviting, _experienced_ , quick to learn and desperate to venture elsewhere, but they didn’t. They stayed on Ikuya’s, giving him the physical connection he’d longed for, never pushing or pulling him in any direction he didn’t want to be.

They stayed like that for awhile until Ikuya found the courage to give him a breathy farewell. Kisumi said goodnight, in a true gentleman manner, softly kissing him all the way to the door, wishing him a safe walk home and sweet dreams of him.

Ikuya didn’t voice it aloud but he knew from then on out he would never dream of anything else ever again.

-x-

A week passed and Ikuya had yet to hear from Kisumi. He’d given him the benefit of the doubt due to exam week, but when that week came and went, so did Ikuya’s hope.  

“I just finished with grading,” Nao had told him a few nights ago. “So maybe Kisumi still has a few last-minute things to wrap up.”

Ikuya had shrugged, not interested in the supposed reasons for Kisumi’s actions. He just wanted to push his dreams to the side and work on making it through the holidays.

Because the holidays were always the worst.

With Christmas right around the corner, everyone was in a lovesick frenzy that had Ikuya on the verge of hurling at any given moment. It only worsened because he was given that sense of false hope that he wouldn’t be alone this holiday season just to be in a bigger slump than he was the year before.

Sei also demoted him to busboy duties for the time being. Apparently, the rain cloud above his head was scaring the customers.

So, he wiped down tables, cleaned up mugs, maybe, possibly, purposely hit couple’s feet while he swept. He wasn’t in the mood. He wanted Christmas and New Year’s to come and go, so he could forget everything this last month brought.

But somehow, when he’d given up on the idea of Kisumi becoming a future partner, the universe decided to throw him yet another curveball.

The stylish, stunning, unforgettable man finally waltzed into Fire Roasted two days before Christmas with his usual razzle dazzle smile plastered on his face. Ikuya glanced at him for a split second before proceeding past him with a shoulder as cold as dry ice.

“It’s two days before Christmas and you’re still pouting, Kuya.” Apparently picking on Ikuya was his way of greeting him after almost two weeks of nothing but crickets.

Ikuya ignored him for reasons he thought were beyond obvious, picking up half empty mugs and cleaning crumbs off the tables. He tried to pretend that being a busboy was the most important job in the world, but Kisumi didn’t seem phased at all.

“Uh oh,” he sighed, still tailing Ikuya’s heels. “You’re ignoring me.”

Well at least he’s not a total idiot.

“Did I suck at kissing that much?” Kisumi teased.

 _Maybe a little bit of an idiot._ Ikuya continued with his silent treatment all around the shop, but _annoyingly,_ it didn’t hinder Kisumi’s perseverance in the slightest.

“ _Kuya,”_ Kisumi whined in the way that made Ikuya’s heart flutter.

 _Don’t betray me_ , he internally hissed at his body, forcing himself to keep moving.

“I didn’t text you because I couldn’t afford to get distracted and I had last minute basketball practices on top of my exams.”

_So, he does understand why I’m upset._

“This is the first free day I’ve had and I immediately came to see you.”

Ikuya hated how quickly he wanted to give in, to give Kisumi the benefit of the doubt, but part of him was scared that if he let him back in then he’d get hurt all over again a week from now.

“Here I am lining up for you and you won’t even look at me.”

Ikuya faced him with a dead set glare, holding it for good measure and then turned right back around to focus on his _job_.

“I’m sorry,” Kisumi finally voiced. “I’m interested, so interested in fact I had my friend take away my phone from me, so I wouldn’t reach out to you because I couldn’t afford to have my grades slip.”

Ikuya faced him again with a demeanor much softer than before, but still severe. “Go on.”

“After exams ended, I still had art projects I needed to finish… and you’re just _too_ damn distracting.”

Ikuya hummed and shrugged; he still could’ve given him a heads up just to let him know they were still okay… and a _thing._ And that was the other thing, what even were they? Because Ikuya wanted more, even after the last two weeks of silence if that’s what Kis-

A finger poked him on the nose. “My little thinker,” Kisumi said affectionately.

“Yours?”

Kisumi reached over for his hands, grazing his thumb over his knuckles tenderly. Amethyst connected with amber. “Mine, if you want to be.” For once, Kisumi’s features were uncertain, his eyes searching perilously for a confirmation.

“Yours,” Ikuya whispered as he closed the distance with a delicate kiss.

Someone cleared their throat directly behind Ikuya, separating them on the spot. “As much as I love a good reunion, do you want to be demoted _again?_ ”

Flushing wildly, Ikuya turned to face Sei. While his manager was serious about their jobs and duties, he grinned proudly at him before telling him to break it up. As always, Kisumi wasn’t affected by the attention; nothing could phase him. He simply kissed Ikuya on the cheek and stuck around until his breaktime.

They had roughly fifteen minutes to catch up, Kisumi explaining everything he had to finish and Ikuya confessing why he’d been demoted to busboy duties. Luckily, he had a feeling that wouldn’t stick, because well, his mood had changed again.

Naturally, a part of him would still hold his skepticism, but he opted to give Kisumi the benefit of the doubt. It didn’t seem normal for him to not keep up with his partner, since the whole time prior he’d been an attentive and generous partner.

Within the fifteen minutes, Kisumi convinced Ikuya to come over for Christmas Eve dinner with his family… not that it actually took much convincing. Kisumi had a way with words that had Ikuya agreeing to whatever as long as he received that infamous smile in return.

-x-

The members of the Shigino family were loud, welcoming, funny, caring, generous, and made Ikuya feel like he belonged there. He didn’t tell Kisumi, but this was the first time a partner had ever invited him to meet his family, and after the first twenty minutes, he didn’t worry about being quieter than everyone else, because he was still included.

Although the real opinion Ikuya valued was that of an eight-year-old boy who truly held Kisumi’s heart, and Ikuya could see why. He was timid and bashful, but when you got him to open up he was free-spirited and adored his big brother with all his heart. Hayato, much like Kisumi, managed to get Ikuya to go along with whatever he wanted, because there was just something about those Shigino boys that could talk you into anything.

He played games with Hayato all night, feeling genuinely happy for the first time in a long time and laughing along with the kid. He couldn’t help it; no one could around him. However, bedtime came and Hayato pouted, clearly displeased with the fact that he had to say good night to his new friend.

“I just want Kuya to tuck me in,” he declared to his brother and parents, his pout too impossibly cute to argue with. The parents exchanged looks and Ikuya assured them he didn’t mind which earned him a smile and, “You’re a good man, Ikuya.”

They left after kissing their youngest on the forehead and wishing him sweet dreams, and Kisumi reluctantly followed after Hayato practically pushed him out of the room.

The salmon-haired boy bounced back to his bed, snuggling into his Paw Patrol sheets and sighing happily. Ikuya followed him, sitting on the bed and waiting for further instruction. There was no point in denying who controlled the reigns here.

“Guess what?” Hayato broke the silence.

“Hmm?”

“Ani has never invited someone to Christmas dinner.”

Ikuya gulped, attempting to bury his shock. “Oh?”

“Mhmm,” Hayato confirmed with a yawn. “You must be special.”

The words rocked Ikuya’s world, but he stayed level-headed as best he could. “Maybe,” he whispered softly in response, unsure of how to respond to a kid telling him something he so desperately needed to hear.

“You are,” Hayato spoke severely, opening his eyes just a little wider to get the message across. “He’s never brought a boyfriend home.”

Ikuya’s brows shot to his hairline. “Now how do you-”

“I’m eight, not stupid,” Hayato voiced defiantly.

Kisumi had never brought someone home, but surely he had many partners, he had even insinuated the amount of people lining… _Oh._ Ikuya realized suddenly that just because Kisumi had to bat people away, didn’t mean he’d been with numerous people. For all he knew, his new _boyfriend_ could’ve been like Natsuya… he never asked, but then again, he hadn’t really had the opportunity to with the last two weeks being dead silent.

“You think a lot.”

Ikuya chuckled, returning his focus to the drowsy eight-year-old with missing teeth. “As perceptive as your brother.”

Hayato yawned, closing his eyes and sinking further into the sheets. “I hope you stick around, Kuya.”

“I will,” Ikuya promised and watched as Hayato drifted off into sleep with a serene smile on his face.

-x-

After Hayato’s confession, Ikuya allowed Kisumi to lead him back to his apartment for some much needed alone time. He couldn’t deny the warmness that had spread throughout his chest at the thought of being the only one Kisumi had ever brought home, and he wanted it to continue to spread with each and every kiss they shared.

Kisumi however had another thing in mind when they finally arrived. With a gentle guidance, he interlocked their fingers and walked them over to the couch to sit down next to a _present?_

“How’d you know I’d come back with you?” Ikuya asked curiously, smirking at his new partner.

“I didn’t,” Kisumi responded truthfully, handing him the gift, “But I hoped.”

Ikuya hid his smile by looking down at his gift and unwrapping it. With deft fingers he quickly undid the wrapping and revealed a picture frame with a drawing of-

“It’s you,” Kisumi finished his thought aloud.

It was him, leaned over the counter at Fire Roasted in his god awful bright marigold apron, resting his chin on his hand. He was probably bored at the time Kisumi drew him, but somehow the art made him appear so at peace. His features were relaxed, soft, and serene, and for the first time in his life, he felt _beautiful._

“Kisumi,” Ikuya whispered, his voice wavering with emotion. “It’s beautiful…. When?”

“A while ago, before I met you.”

Ikuya shook his head, that couldn’t have been possible, because he would’ve noticed someone as stunning as him. Kisumi always stood out from the crowd, how had he not noticed him?

“I had a meeting with my student teacher around a month ago…” Kisumi started, explaining that when he’d first arrived at Fire Roasted for his tutoring session, Ikuya wasn’t there yet, but had shown up right as it’d finished.

“I would’ve noticed you,” Ikuya voiced his confusion.

“Well, maybe that day something heavier was on your mind, but the moment I saw you, inspiration hit me.”

Water crept dangerously close to the corner of his eyes, overwhelmed with the fact Kisumi had noticed him first.

“So,” Ikuya deduced. “You were flirting from day one.”

Kisumi laughed, “I thought you knew that, Kuya. Are you sure you’re a writer?”

 _A writer_. That reminded Ikuya of the moment Kisumi first inspired him. Without explanation, he unlocked his phone and went straight to his poetry site, thanking a higher power for it actually loading on cue.

“You inspired me too,” he confirmed, meeting Kisumi’s eyes as he handed over his phone. “I wrote this when… well, read it.”

Kisumi took the phone, reading each line carefully. Ikuya had never planned on sharing this with him because it said everything he’d ever felt for the man. It described his flawless features, sharp and soft, his smile that shattered any of Ikuya’s doubts, his demeanor that sang to him like a siren of the sea, and the body that opened up his deepest desires.

Kisumi sucked in a breath and held onto it, only releasing it when he finished it. “Is this how you really feel about me?”

“It’s how I really feel about you,” Ikuya stated confidently for the first time in his life.

With tear brimmed eyes, Kisumi set the phone down and launched forward into a long, hard, and passionate kiss. Ikuya met his pace, hating that it had been two weeks since the first time they shared this kind of intimacy but thankful he had it now. It didn’t take long for a tongue to swipe at his bottom lip, silently asking for permission to enter. Ikuya’s body immediately responded, opening his mouth excitedly and tangling his tongue with the sweetest mouth he’d ever tasted.

Kisumi broke the kiss to slide down Ikuya’s jawline, mouthing at every inch and marking him to ensure he’d laid claim. The kisses moved below his ear and Ikuya thought he was going to lose it, tilting his head to expose even more neck. He needed more, more love, more markings, more _Kisumi_.

A small whimper escaped his throat the moment Kisumi sucked his neck, working his tongue with precision. Ikuya didn’t care if he woke up tomorrow with a thousand bruises on him because it meant Kisumi had been there and this was all _real._  

“Can we?” Kisumi asked between kisses along his collarbone. “I’ll be gentle,” he assured.

“Y-yes,” Ikuya breathed, his body and mind falling completely under his partner’s spell.

A tender hand led them out of the living room and into the bedroom without another word. Kisumi undressed him slowly and with care, starting with his knit sweater and undershirt. The soft hitch in his breath did wonders to Ikuya’s confidence when his pale, lithe torso was exposed to hungry eyes.

“So perfect,” Kisumi approved with a low hum, tracing his fingers lightly down his abdomen to the waist of his jeans. His eyes flicked up to meet Ikuya’s, double-checking with him before proceeding with the reason they’d come in here.

An encouraging nod was all Kisumi needed to undo the belt and jeans with swift nimble fingers. He pushed the pants down eagerly, helping Ikuya step out of them and guided them to the bed. With a coaxing hand, he pushed the inexperienced male down onto the silk sheets and oversized pillows before removing his own clothes.

Ikuya had seen him naked twice now but that didn’t stop the excitement that stirred in his gut as each layer of clothing dropped to the floor. Kisumi, a downright _vixen,_ sauntered over to the bed and crawled over Ikuya with adornment glistening his eyes. When Kisumi made it to the top of his boxer briefs, he licked a long, slow swipe up from his stomach all the way to his chest. Ikuya wriggled beneath the attention, his body reacting on its own accord at the heated tongue.

“Mmm,” Kisumi licked along his collarbone. “I could eat you up.”

Ikuya whined, thinking _please do_. He’d never been so tended to and with each thing his lover gave, the more his body desired.

Kisumi lapped again at his neck, eliciting another eager moan from Ikuya. “I’m gonna take good care of you baby.”

 _This is the end,_ Ikuya thought to himself, because surely Kisumi was going to _ruin_ him.

The kisses continued, heatedly and passionately, traveling wherever they wanted to and claiming every inch offered to him. Ikuya panted, whined, moaned, his cock twitching with anticipation as Kisumi teased him with slow licks down his navel.

No other lover had been this good and they hadn’t even ventured to second base yet. Suddenly, Kisumi’s hands were on him, joining the torture of his tongue and grazing Ikuya’s sides. They seemed to have a destination though, traveling upwards to his chest and feathering across his hardened nipples. The fingers twirled each pink numb gingerly, sending Ikuya into a frenzy and leaking precum into his boxers. As much as he never wanted this night to end, he needed some form of release before he went mad.

Ikuya bucked his hips, eagerly signaling to move the attention elsewhere and causing a chuckle to slip from Kisumi’s lips.

“Tired of the foreplay already?” He teased, lifting his head.

Ikuya bit his lip, running his fingers through his damp hair and wondering when his body had gotten so _hot_. “Kisumi,” he all but moaned, “Do something, _please_.”

Hooded eyes became downright sinful as Kisumi sunk lower on his body, dragging his hands with him. Without warning, he rolled down the remaining article of clothing and freed Ikuya’s erection. Kisumi licked his lips at the sight, flicking his eyes up momentarily before wrapping his plump lips around Ikuya’s cock.

Ikuya arched his back, sucking in a sharp breath and gripping the sheets as Kisumi swallowed him whole. He’d never felt such a wet heat surround him before and he hoped he’d never have to go without it again.

Just like in conversation, Kisumi was attentive and generous with his affection. He lapped and sucked at Ikuya like it was the only thing he ever wanted to do. With tender yet firm hands, he gripped his hips to steady him and continued with his pleasurable torment. Kisumi moaned, sending a vibration up Ikuya’s cock and forcing him into overdrive.

“Kisumi,” he whined, his fingers finding themselves in silky pink curls and tugging him away.

“ _What?_ ” Kisumi smirked devilishly at him.

“You were gonna make me cum.” 

A swift tongue swiped at him, “Isn’t that the point?” 

Ikuya moaned unabashedly, again bucking his hips. “P-please.”

Kisumi slid up his body, slotting their slick members together, and whispered deep in his ear, “Want me to fuck you, Ikuya?”

“Yes.”

That one-word answer got the ball rolling. Kisumi moved off him to access the beside table, sliding open the drawer and rummaging for the supplies. He pulled out a small bottle of lube and a condom all while Ikuya panted and writhed on the bed in anticipation.

Even though the man was a sly minx, Kisumi stopped the slow torment and quickly coated his fingers. “Spread your legs for me, _baby_.”

Ikuya obliged, knees dropping open the second the command left his lover’s tongue. He’d do anything just hear another pet name. _Hell,_ he’d do anything for the man climbing in between in his legs with or without asking.

Ravenous amethyst depths devoured every inch of his skin as Kisumi voiced his approval with a smooth, “You’re so fucking stunning, Kuya.”

His left hand applied subtle pressure to Ikuya’s inner thigh, silently telling him to open wider. Again, Ikuya responded and earned a shaky breath from Kisumi.

“All mine,” he voiced blissfully, sliding one finger between Ikuya’s cheeks and rubbing gently at the entrance.

Ikuya had tried this on his own once or twice in the past but it had never felt like this, like his body was going to come undone by just a simple maneuver. Kisumi pressed into the ring of muscle, sighing excitedly as his finger sunk in easier than expected. He knew how to work Ikuya open the right way, driving him crazy as he dragged his finger out and slowly pressed back.

Ikuya had returned to an unhinged state with his hips jolting and pleading for another digit. As always, Kisumi had been paying attention and slipped in a second finger, scissoring him open gingerly. Leaning down, he kissed Ikuya’s open mouth and continued finger fucking him until his hips were pushing down hard against his fingers.

“Kisumi,” Ikuya panted between harsh breaths, fiercely grinding down on the fingers fucking him into oblivion.

Kisumi broke off their sloppy kisses and removed his fingers at the same time, leaving Ikuya an empty, wrecked mess. He hurriedly grabbed the foiled packet on the bed, ripping it open and rolling it down his cock. Ikuya managed to pass him the lube in hopes to speed up the process and spread his legs even further, letting Kisumi know just how badly he _needed_ this.

His lover took the hint, pouring an abundant amount of lube into his hand and slathering up his member before aligning himself up with Ikuya.

“Look at me,” Kisumi commanded with a tender voice and the moment Ikuya did, Kisumi sunk himself to the hilt.

Ikuya threw his head back, the sweet burn spreading throughout him as he became accustomed to the fullness. It sealed everything he’d ever wanted; the closeness, the intimacy, the _passion_ , and to think it had started all with a flawless man walking into his coffee shop.

“Are you really thinking about something else right now?” Kisumi chuckled breathlessly, his voice quivering slightly as Ikuya’s body tightened around him.

“If you’d move, then I wouldn’t have time be thinking about something else,” Ikuya snarked, successfully egging him on.

Kisumi slid out and rocked back in slowly, carefully testing the waters before he picked up a steadier rhythm. One hand glided up the underside of Ikuya’s leg placing it over his shoulder, allowing himself to hit deeper.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he moaned, smooth as honey.

Ikuya responded with a needy whine of his own, bucking down on the cock throbbing inside of him. His body pleaded for more, _harder and faster._ Kisumi hooked his arm around his leg, snapping forward again, deeper than he had before.

“Ah- yes,” Ikuya praised.

Again and again, Kisumi plunged forward, hitting him in just right the spot Ikuya _needed_ , setting off sparks all along his skin. Their wanton moans filled the space all around them, suffocating Ikuya with a pleasure he never knew he could experience. After having Kisumi like this, coming undone above him and fucking him with fervor, Ikuya refused to let him go.

“Kuya, _shit!”_ Kisumi yelled out, gripping down Ikuya’s thigh to spread him impossibly wider. “Close, so close!”

Ikuya looked at him, wanting to see the moment he brought a man like _him_ to his knees. He forced his eyes to stay open as his own climax was on the horizon. Chanting ‘ _Kisumi’_ louder and louder, he grabbed his own cock and stroked it in time with their quickened rhythm.

“ _F-fuck_!” Kisumi’s hips stuttered as Ikuya cried out unashamedly loud, spilling all over his own stomach. “God, you’re hot,” Kisumi gruffly praised, his voice heavy with sex as Ikuya milked him for everything he was worth.

Ikuya hummed, completely blissed out and feeling higher than any cloud in the sky. His eyes had fallen shut, succumbing to the overstimulation his body had not been used to receiving.

When he finally came back around, Kisumi had cleaned himself up and dressed him in a new pair of boxers. Warm muscular arms wrapped around him, bringing his bare back to a toned, naked torso.

“Our sex was so boring you fell asleep?” Kisumi teased, nibbling his ear.

“Shut up,” Ikuya mumbled. “Or it won’t happen again.”

Kisumi pulled him closer, “If you ever think I’m letting your cute ass go, you’re wrong.”

On instinct, Ikuya chewed his lip to stop himself from full on grinning. He said a small, “ _Okay_ ,” before further relaxing into the arms that’d always protect him.

“Merry Christmas, my Kuya,” Kisumi spoke into his neck, nuzzling him and holding onto him tight with zero intentions of letting him go.  

“Merry Christmas Kisumi,” he whispered back, falling into the best sleep he’d ever had and finally feeling like he had a place in the world.

-x-

Christmas morning bliss had always been one of Nao’s favorite things. He appreciated the soft glow filtering in through the window and the gentle hum of the holiday music sounding from the kitchen.

As if on cue, Natsuya strolled into their bedroom with sweats hanging low from his hips and a cup of coffee in each hand.

“Merry Christmas, handsome,” his partner greeted with a toothy grin, passing him his favorite green mug.  

Nao hummed in approval as the smell of cinnamon graced his nose. “Merry Christmas,” he responded with his mouth already at the brim.

“Looks like Iku spent the night at Kis’.” Natsuya proclaimed proudly, situating himself at the end of the bed and drinking his coffee.

“Good.” Ikuya deserved happiness, and Nao had hated watching him for the last few years envy his and Natsuya’s relationship. Every time the holidays rolled around, Ikuya slipped further into his solace and dark thoughts. It honestly reminded him of Kirishima-san and Nao didn’t want Ikuya to end up the same as her. His future brother-in-law deserved _so much more._

“You ever gonna tell him that you set them up?”

Nao smiled to himself in the reflection of his coffee. “I’ll let Kisumi drop that bomb.”

Natsuya chuckled warmly. “When do you think he-”

_Ring, ring_

They exchanged looks, Nao immediately flinging his finger to his nose before Natsuya could. “Nose goes,” he declared, stifling his snicker.

Natsuya groaned, “My mother should have told me to stay away from good looking _men_ , not women.”

_Ring, ring_

“Better answer that,” Nao commented lightly, rising to his feet so that Natsuya couldn’t try and pass off the phone to him.

“You’re evil,” Natsuya hissed, swiping up the ringing phone as Nao beelined it to the door.

“Nao, it’s your phone!”

“Well I can’t get it now, I’m too far away,” he said simply.

“EVIL!” Natsuya shouted just before he answered the phone on its last ring. “Merry Christmas, Iku-kun.”

Nao stayed by the bedroom door, eavesdropping on the disaster bound to ensue. Natsuya stayed quiet for the brief phone conversation and Nao wondered if Kisumi even told Ikuya. He said that they would at their last tutoring session whenever exams had passed, but now he wasn’t so sure.

Natsuya hung up without saying more than five words. “You can come out now.”

Nao stepped forward from the shadows, leaning against the frame with a quirked brow.

“Ikuya said to tell you that if you ever try to set him up again, he’ll burn your record collection and make your coffee from the ashes.”

Nao chuckled, “Always creative.”

Natsuya beamed, obviously finding amusement in his brother’s innovative ways of torture. “He also said, ‘Thank you.’”

Nao smiled softly, hanging his head for a moment to hide the overwhelming feeling of pride. He sighed and spoke with upmost sincerity as if Ikuya were in the room with him, “You’re welcome.”  

 

**Author's Note:**

> I had so much fun writing this pair! I adore both characters with all my heart and thought, "HEY! Why not put them together?" I think they're kinda cute. :) Lemme know what you think in the comments!
> 
> As always, thank you @ bespectacled_owl for editing this for me! (Especially so close to the deadline for us both) <3


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